


Those In The Sun

by eleutheria_has_won



Category: The Underland Chronicles - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleutheria_has_won/pseuds/eleutheria_has_won
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of differences between the Underland and the Overland. (Luxa might just want to see them all.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i - vi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [if-obama-was-white](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=if-obama-was-white).



_i. sunlight_

The wonder in her eyes when she got her first glimpse of what day meant, above ground, was childlike. It reminded him a little of Boots, if Boots had ever been the sort of kid who was awed by anything and didn't take the entire world happily in stride. It had remained, even after the confusion and wariness and disorientation had faded with repeated visits. Now, she lies back on top of the stone which covers their way home and closes her eyes in lazy pleasure at the way it reflects the heat back into her. Gregor lies beside her, and doesn't bother to close his eyes; instead, he watches her face.

The sunlight, its heat and brilliance and beauty, that is what dazzles her, and it's enough. The way she looks as she tips her chin up to soak it in, lazy and relaxed and at peace like she never is anywhere else, that is what dazzles him, and it is more than enough.

_ii. thunderstorm_

One of their very first visits (when Howard is still frowning at them, just a bit, and Luxa still threatens to smack him over it), Luxa is taking to the odd joy of climbing trees in Central Park like a duck to water when Gregor glances up at the dark, quickly gathering clouds in the sky and grimaces.

"Luxa," he says, "We should probably head back."

She drops out of the tree and lands next to him with a confused frown. "Why?" she says. "The bats do not expect us back for many hours yet."

"Look up at the sky," he says, packing up what little they brought and shouldering his bag. "It's about to storm."

Luxa glances upward, brow furrowing in confusion, and then looks around the park, noticing the sudden absence of other people with a scowl. "I do not understand," she says, even as she helps him pack up and reached for her own pack. "I thought that the sun did not...set? Until much later. Why is it becoming dark?"

"The sun isn't setting, it's just being covered up by the storm clouds," Gregor says, waiting on her to finish before they set off for the entrance to the Underland together. "Looks pretty bad, too," he comments, glancing upward again. "We haven't had a big storm yet this summer, so it's a little overdue." As if in answer, he can hear a faint, far off rumble over the sound of distant traffic.

"I still do not understand, Gregor," Luxa says with a mildly frustrated huff. "What is a storm?" After several visits, she's no longer infuriated when she doesn't yet understand some vagary of the Overland that Gregor or his family or Ripred has neglected to mention; she just asks them to explain and waits patiently while they do until she either understands or gives up entirely.

"It's..." Gregor starts, then frowns. There really isn't anything like a storm in the Underland that he could use to make a connection so she'll get why it means they have to stop climbing trees, but won't make her panic or still really confused. Honestly, seeing it is probably the only way she'll totally get what it is. That's an idea. "...do you want to stay and watch it? We have time before we need to head back to Regalia."

She tilts her head in confusion, but nods and stays silent until they reach the stone entrance. Between the two of them, they're just strong enough to push the stone back so that the opening is unblocked enough for them to get in. Gregor uses a dead branch to prop it open, just a bit. If this storm is as bad as he thinks it'll be, they won't need to worry about anyone seeing it open; no one will be stupid enough to be here to see them. He has them set their things well away from the opening, and then settles down on the floor next to Luxa to wait.

They don't need to wait long. Within minutes, the first raindrop falls with a faint splash; soon, Central Park is barely visible through sheets of pouring rain. Luxa looks nervous and confused, but intrigued. There's a blinding flash of light that makes both of them jump, and Gregor only has a moment's notice to grab for Luxa's wrist before the thunder follows with an earth-shaking roar. Luxa nearly bolts for safety.

"What?" she gasps , eyes as wide as dinner plates. "What?"

"The flash is lightning," Gregor says quickly, still holding onto her, trying to anchor her. "The noise, that's thunder, it's just the sound the lightning makes."

"I..." Luxa trails off, slack-jawed for a moment. Then she closes her mouth and rubs her free hand over her face. The other hand turns in Gregor's grip, until he can feel her holding on to him, too. "It sounds like an earthquake compressed into a single moment. It is not dangerous?"

"Not really, no," Gregor says quietly. They relax a little, and sit in silence.

"It is very powerful," Luxa offers hesitantly, after a minute or two. He watches her out of the corner of his eye and says nothing. "I think... I think I could come to enjoy this, perhaps."

"Okay," he says, because what else do you say to that?

They're still holding on to each other. They don't let go.

_iii. people_

"So _many_ ," she breathes. Gregor glances over, and sees that her pupils are blown wide with shock and awe. The sky is shadowy and starless, but it isn't dark, because below their feet where they dangle them off the building's edge, the city glows with the light of a few million people.

"Yeah," he says. "More than in the Underland, at least. By a lot."

"They just..." Luxa says, sweeping her eyes back and forth, over and over as she tries to drink it in. "How many can there be?" she murmurs to herself in thought. Then she grimaces and reaches into the pocket of her Overland style jeans, rifling through looking for something; Gregor grins.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Overlander," she says wryly, not for a second taking her eyes off the city, "Not to mention, recompense on our wager."

"As is fair," he says, grinning. "Pay up."

She tosses him a dirty look but sighs wearily in defeat and hands over a folded, only slightly crumpled piece of parchment. (Gregor can see the smile hanging around her eyes, she can't fool him with this passive act.)

“And the second part?” Gregor says good-naturedly, his eyes dancing with laughter. Luxa pretends to frown.

"As you insist, Overlander," groans Luxa, "I will assist you and Ares in convincing Aurora of your thoroughly foolhardy plan."

“You guys are going to love this,” Gregor teases anyway. He feels like he's soaring. For one, Luxa has just handed him to papers which will officially allow Lizzie to start taking language lessons with Hazard, which she's been pining after for months (and which he can use to help convince his mother to let them stay in New York, near the Underland). For another, Luxa is finally going to persuade Aurora to accompany Gregor and Ares on one of their flights they take these days at night, sneaking out of the passage in Central Park and taking to the New York City skies, unseen by the millions below. Up until now, Aurora has refused to come because of the possible danger, and Luxa had reluctantly gone along with her, having no burning desire to see the Overland from above.

Aurora always bends eventually beneath Luxa's wheedling, though, and Gregor can't wait to show the two of them all the little rooftop places he and Ares have found, the secret hide aways, the places to sit and just watch the city live and breath beneath their feet, like the stars are glowing out of the ground instead of the sky. He can't wait for her to see the millions passing by her, far beneath, watch her revel in the power of what humanity had built above her world.

It's like an ocean of life.

(The next night, they fly, and Luxa is glowing by the end. Gregor tells her story after story about the people down below, the ones he's known and the ones he's only heard about and the ones he's never met at all. Some are true; some he makes up. She laughs for all of them, anyway.)

_iv. snow_

Central Park is pristine with a fresh coating of snow. The last three nights, a blizzard swept through the city with the kind of bitterly cold fury that hadn't been seen in a decade or two; when the heat went out, Gregor's mother finally threw her hands in the air and gave up. They grabbed a few things, Gregor asked Nike and a few of her friends if they would help him out for a few hours at most, and the entire family moved down to Regalia and the rooms set aside for them in the palace.

About a day ago, Ripred's Overland rat scouts returned with the message that the snows had basically stopped, though more was on the way by way of another blizzard almost as bad as the first. If anyone wanted to go above, now was the time to do it.

Boots had immediately started squealing about snow and sledding, and Lizzie hadn't been close behind in begging their parents to let them go. His mother had laughed, but agreed (a year or two of relative peace had done a lot to soothe most of her ire) after much pleading, and on the condition that they not wander out of earshot of the Central Park entrance. Gregor, who was a little excited to see some snow despite himself – last year hadn't exactly had a lot of opportunities for sledding – had offered to escort them while they were on the surface. Things had snowballed – Gregor snorted to himself – and pretty soon, Luxa, Howard, and Hazard were coming with them, too.

The latter two, however, are not important at the moment, nor are Gregor's two sisters. Howard and the kids are on their way up, but Gregor and Luxa volunteered to go ahead and make sure that there was no one out there just yet. Gregor is pretty sure there won't be, though. After all, it is pretty early, not to mention cold, and the Central Park entrance isn't in the most accessible place in the park. The best sledding hills are far away enough that there should be no problem. They did take precautions, though, just in case; Luxa looks pretty uncomfortable in her filched Overlander clothes. The minute the stone rolls back and snow slides inside, however, her eyes go wide and she stops fidgeting with what she's wearing.

“I told you,” Gregor says with a grin, “There's nothing in the Underland really like it, at least that I've seen.”

“That is an accurate summary,” Luxa says, examining the drift just outside the entrance with a look of intense concentration. “It is not much like I imagined it, either. It's-” she glances out across the park and squints a little, “-brighter, for one part. The air is far colder, as well. I now see why you had Hazard, Howard, and myself wear many layers of garments.”

“Pretty much,” says Gregor, shrugging. “It's not like it's cold enough to freeze to death, but it would still be annoying to be freezing while you were sledding or whatever.” He pulls his gloves on a little more tightly, tugs his sleeves down, and moves past Luxa out into the snow. “Come on!” He shouts behind him. The city is as quiet and still as he's ever heard it. In fact, at the moment, all he can hear is his own footsteps in the snow and – very distantly – the faint sirens and car horns that have been omnipresent most of his life in New York.

It's actually quiet enough that, after a moment, he can actually hear the soft shushing noise of Luxa following him and trudging through the snow. Turning away from her a little more to hide his face, Gregor grins and casually bends down to pick up a handful of snow. It takes her a minute to catch up with him, and by the time she does, he's got a pretty nice sphere going.

“What do you think?” he says, scooping up another half a handfull or so and pressing it on to what he already has.

“It's... odd,” says Luxa, “and hard to walk in. I can imagine that would make fighting in snow difficult.”

“Well, this is a pretty deep snow,” comments Gregor noncommitally.

“Almost knee deep,” she replies. They're comfortably silent for a moment. Gregor smooths out the last little bit and tosses his creation from hand to hand contemplatively. The balance is good, it's packed nicely enough not to fall apart midair, and it's pretty well-rounded, so the aerodynamics should be fine. It'll do, he concludes.

“So, Luxa,” he starts with deceptive innocence, “Congratulations on seeing your first snow.”

“Thank you?” she says. She turns to him a little bit and raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Want to see what Overlander kids usually do with the snow?” says Gregor, hefting the item in her hand with a practiced air.

“I suppose so,” Luxa says slowly. “Though I am not sure what-”

That's all she gets out before Gregor's snowball nails her in the chest and explodes in a white flurry. Luxa stumbles a little in surprise and gapes at the white powdery mark on her coat. Gregor scoops a handful of snow and backs away, grinning. He has maybe three seconds before she realizes what's going on here.

Luxa looks up slowly, eyes narrowing in suspicion, before flying open at the next snowball Gregor's forming in his hands.

“Snowball fight!” yells Gregor playfully, slinging his second payload at her. This one hits her in the shoulder, and is enough to startle her into action. With a bark of laughter, she crouches quickly and grabs a handful, flinging it at him to cover her escape as she leaps away.

“You will pay for that, Overlander!” she cries, grinning widely.

“Make me, then!” he shouts back, and ducks with a smirk as a snowball narrowly misses his head.

“Do not doubt my vengeance, Gregor, you will _rue_ this day!” she laughs, and that is the end of talking for a while.

By the time Howard and the kids show up, Gregor and Luxa have already established hiding spots, and are ducking out from cover every few seconds to toss new projectiles each other's way. Poor Howard only gets a short glimpse of the beautiful, snow-covered park before one of Luxa's snowballs misses Gregor (who's hiding behind the rock) and smacks him right in the face, almost knocking him over backwards (they may or may not have gotten a little competitive, and hey, Luxa's got an unfortunately good throwing strength). They all freeze for a second. Howard's yelp of surprise has Luxa putting her hand over her mouth in dismay, and his look of displeasure has Gregor cracking up with laughter. Lizzie and Hazard giggling quietly behind their hands, and Boots doesn't even bother to be quiet.

“I am so sorry, good cousin,” Luxa says urgently, “I was not aiming for you, I promise.” Her mouth twitches in the effort not to grin.

“Well, you sure got him anyway,” Gregor cackles, doubling over with the force of his laughter.

“Luxa!” Howard sputters in disapproval, “That is _cold_!” Hazard and Lizzie burst out giggling all over again, even harder when Howard gives them a wry look.

“S-sorry, Howard,” Lizzie stutters between snorts, waving a meek hand at the snow covering his bangs and caked across his face. “You just look kind of silly like that.” Howard gives them both another look, more playful than anything, and huffs.

“Well, then,” says he mock-snobbishly, before smirking. “I guess I will simply have to avenge my dignity in kind.”

“What?” she says in confusion, still snickering, before Howard leans down to pick up some snow and she stops laughing immediately. “You would not dare!” she gasps, eyes wide and alarmed.

“I think you'll find that I would,” Howard says mildly, winding up his throw and pitching the snowball straight at her.

His aim's good; Luxa only has time for one shriek of “Howard!” before it hits her and knocks her over backward. Gregor starts laughing again, and scoops up one of his snowballs to lunge around the stone and launch it gently at Lizzie. The snow splatter across her back, and she squeaks in surprise, before laughing and darting away hand in hand with Hazard. Boots squeals with delight and tosses a bit of snow at Gregor, which he returns, laughing. After that, it's a free for all.

Midway through the day, another family passes through, and they have a minute's warning to roll back the stone before the two Overland kids, a sister just older than Lizzie and her younger brother, come into sight. Howard and Luxa's Overlander clothes both have hoods, and Hazard looks enough at a passing glance like an Overlander that he's fine around the other Overland kids, so they don't really bother hiding. It turns out that Lizzie sort of knows the girl in passing from school, so they spend maybe five minutes building forts together before the two kids bid them farewell for one of the big sledding hills. Strangers come and go throughout the day after that – another groups of kids, a smiling older couple in thick woolen coats, a businessman with a briefcase and a steaming cup of coffee. Most don't bother with more than a glance or two, so they're never interrupted with questions about Luxa or Howard's strange appearances.

By the time the sun starts sinking down between the skyscrapers, everyone is wet, cold, and happy. Lizzie and Hazard babble excitedly to each other in the weird hybrid of English, Rat, and a little Mouse that they use right after their language lessons, now that they're taking them together. Boots babbles too, but tiredly and mostly in English as her head starts to drift to Howard's shoulder.

Gregor stays to close the rock after everyone else is down, and before she heads down, Luxa stops. They're the last two, and Howard is too busy with the kids to notice them at all.

They join the rest a few minutes later. Nobody notices, but Gregor doesn't really feel the cold any longer.

_v. city_

After months and months of venturing up to the surface together, Luxa finally insists on borrowing Overland clothes and seeing the rest of this city and world for herself, not just the little area around the Central Pack entrance. Gregor carefully keep an eye on the crowd for anyone giving them second glances as he follows her through the streets, only giving her directions when it looked like she's about to lead them somewhere he thinks they probably shouldn't go.

The skyscrapers impress her, the people amaze her, and the noise downright baffles her. The ever present hum of life rattles her bones. The look of wonder as she wraps her head around the idea of Gregor's version of “city” – where the crowds number more than the populations of every speaking thing in the Underland combined, where it's literally never dark, where the buildings extend as far as the sky can see, where there isn't an active soldier on duty or an army gearing for war or a sign of battle to be seen, and hasn't really been for decades– is nothing short of beautiful.

_vi. garden_

It takes weeks of convincing, arguing, persuading, using Gregor as a witness, using Gregor's mother as a witness, using Ripred as a witness, before the council even thinks about considering the proposition of letting their headstrong young queen venture above to the surface. In the end, their first venture isn't actually sanctioned. They sneak out. Ripred catches them along the way, and says nothing but “Leave the immediate area of the entrance, and I will eat you two myself. And no canoodling.”

(He has never seen Luxa blush so hard. He just rolls his eyes. He knows better.) (He still blushes dark red, but denies it later.)

But it's all worth it when he rolls back the stone at last and is hit anew with the fresh air of early April in Central Park. The grass is almost neon green, there are brilliant flowers blooming, and the look on Luxa's face couldn't be more shocked than if she'd seen Ripred, Solovet, a serpent, and a stinger giggling together like they were Boots's age.

Luxa seems so normal sometimes, it's easy to forget that she hasn't ever seen the Overland or a lot of the stuff Gregor takes for granted. Like, you know, flowers. Or trees. Or plants in general. Or blue skies. Or, you know, _the sun._

Luxa stops gaping when Gregor shuffles a little and coughs quietly. She shoots him a silencing glare that only makes him smile, and moves forward. Not even her forced composure can hide the deep intake of breath or the little smile that appears at the smell. Not even her considerable pride can entirely hide the startled look she gets when she first steps out onto the grass.

(Later, she confides in him: “Now I finally understand the meaning of that word,” she says quietly.

“What word?” he asks.

“Garden.”)


	2. vii-xi

_vii. gadgetry_

It all starts with the flashlight. Newly intrigued by Gregor’s stories of a city above which glows by the power of electricity, Luxa - quite sensibly - asks him how exactly his flashlight and flashlights in general work. Gregor always did tend to pay attention in science class more than any other (not to mention he lives with a very enthusiastic science teacher) so he’s actually able to answer her question somewhat. She looks very thoughtful at his explanation of electric current, lightbulbs, and batteries. When he’s done, she thinks it over for a moment, then - also quite sensibly - ask him if everything in the world above is powered by these small batteries.

So then he explains power generation to her, electric companies, alternative methods of power, things like wind, the sun, oil. Wind and sun don’t interest her (they’re not something she’s experienced at all, yet), but his passing examples of petroleum being used to fuel cars and old steam engines moving trains very much do. While Regalia does have science that’s plenty advanced (Gregor thinks of Neevee again and shudders) and does use lamps fueled by natural gas for the fields, they’ve only ever used energy to generate light, not movement. So she asks him how it works. He opens his mouth to answer, pauses, slowly shuts it, and realizes he has no idea.

So the next time he’s above ground, he goes to the library and looks up “how do engines work.” He carefully reads some summaries, he prints out a diagram or too, and when he brings them back down to Luxa the next day, she spends an hour going over them with him, pointing out things for him to explain. The third time she does this, he has officially run out of answers.

So the _next_ time he goes up, Gregor borrows one of his dad’s classroom’s textbooks. The chapter on engines and power and stuff is better than what Gregor can get off the internet (and arguably more factual) and Luxa still goes through the entire thing in about a week. She’s moderately satisfied with her understanding of engines now, but now she also understands that while engines are complex and powerful, they are not necessarily the most complex or most powerful. What she’s curious about is the smaller things, like coffee makers or computers or factory assembly lines populated by robots instead of people. And now Gregor is _really_ out of his depth.

So he goes to his dad, who actually teaches science, with Luxa following behind and asks _him_ all these questions. His dad’s a little confused, but science! is thoroughly convincing enough that he foregoes any questions of his own and answers as best he can. Complex machinery is not exactly his area of study, but he does his best. About an hour and a half in, Ripred comes looking for his bond and ends up getting drawn into the discussion; he’s no expert either, but he’s spent plenty of time in the Overland and at one point in his life he was a curious young rat (Ripred snarls at Gregor when he snickers then) who was just as fascinated by all this as Luxa is, so he knows a thing or two. About three hours in, Luxa has dismissed at least a half-dozen runners from the council, and both Ripred and Gregor’s dad reached the end of their knowledge at least twenty minute ago.

So Luxa makes yet another sensible decision, and calls for someone who not only might understand all of this, but whose job it is to understand all of this. She called for the Regalian head engineer. The head engineer, an easy-going woman named Mona, takes one look at the table overflowing with papers and charts and print outs and textbooks and she frowns in semi-obvious concern. Slowly, she reaches forward and picks up the nearest bit of the mess, which happens to be a detailed demonstrating how gasoline is used to power a combustion engine. While the rest of the room holds their collective breath, Mona reads over it. Slowly, her eyes start to widen. “More,” she says, sticking a hand out without looking away from the paper. “Give you something else to me.”

So they spend the next twelve hours working through the night. Sometime around the Underland’s midnight, Mona’s second-in-command is summoned; by the time “morning” breaks, Mona’s team takes up half the room and as talking in increasingly excited voices. Luxa, Gregor, and Gregor’s dad have long since been relegated to fetching papers and books (Ripred wisely fled in the first ten minutes) and Luxa’s now tired, a little cranky, a little excited, and would _really enjoy that explanation she summoned her head engineer for._

So she barges her way back into the debate going in between the engineering team and asks not very politely for it. This was not the most sensible thing, and was in fact more than a little foolhardy.

So the engineers, wired with the excitement of it all, eagerly accept the intrusion and fall all over themselves to explain all these fascinating new concepts.

So Luxa, engaged by their blunt enthusiasim, gets sucked in and starts talking about it all with them, just as eagerly.

So she spends another hour doing that.

So by the end of it, Luxa is now as fully informed as she’s going to be on the subject of energy, mechanics, computer system, programming, and mechanical engineering until science itself advances or she gets an engineering degree. And Mona and her team have three new water wheels planned for the edge of the Waterway, a Regalian version of Salter’s Duck in the works, no less than several dozen quick scribbles of everything from sonar-powered radar goggles to combustion engines powered by Firelands-harvested phosphorous to a theoretical model of a submarine, and a Crown-sponsored street lamp project expected to light up all of Regalia without the need for torches within the next fifty years (optimistically).

So Gregor is a little bit leery of letting Luxa near his flashlight for a while.

_viii. stars_

It's the season of elections in Regalia, and Howard – to Luxa's everlasting gratitude – has offered to take over for a little while. “You deal with these windbags of the council,” Howard huffs, “far more than is entirely healthy. I am a doctor; trust me on this. Elections will only make them worse than ever as they seek your favor for their cause. Go, really. It will be truly over in a week or so, and then you can return to a more peaceful city and a whole new set of blowhards. That is more than enough time for that trip that _I know_ you've been wanting to take. Don’t give me that look. Because I am your cousin, Luxa. I know these things.”

Luxa protests initially, but the way that she gives it up after less than an hour is enough to reassure Gregor that he should be really, really grateful that he also has an excuse not to be present. It’s the same excuse, actually.

As Howard leaves her chambers, off to announce to the general populace that he will be taking over as steward for a little while, Luxa turns to Gregor, who shrugs. “Well, then,” she says, slowly beginning to smile. “I guess we will have that ‘vacation’ you have spoken of after all.”

Gregor whoops like a teenager and darts for his rooms to begin packing.

It takes them under an hour to throw all the Overland clothes and money they have into Overland suitcases (which they wouldn’t have, usually, except that Gregor stored them down here months ago, when they had first started talking wistfully about cities and stars, in the vain hope that one day they would be able to use them) and recruit Aurora and Ares into taking them up to the surface, where they promise they'll be back in a couple days at most. Aurora and Luxa's goodbye is heartfelt and solemn; Ares just gives Gregor the bat equivalent of a _look_ and says “It hasn't been that long since you were gone for months at a time, Overlander. Do not flatter yourself so much.” His voice is fond, though, so Gregor just grins at him and hugs him tight. No matter what Ares says, now that Gregor visits the Underland almost everyday, and lives there when he can, they've fallen out of the habit of being away from each other for so long. It's okay, though; Gregor will miss him, too.

Once they're finished, they roll back the stone and head for the pawn shop. His family doesn't really own a car (New York traffic makes it officially not worth it in his mother's eyes), and even if they did his parents most likely wouldn't let him borrow it for several days, but the bus can take you pretty far if you have the money for it. A few antiques out of the Regalian museum can pay for that. They stop by the apartment briefly, and his mom isn't there, but everyone else is, so he informs them that Luxa's gotten some Howard-mandated time off, and they wanted to use it to go down to Virginia and see some stars.

Ever since she first started to visit the Overland, years ago, Luxa has experienced almost everything that the Overland has to offer that the Underland doesn’t; but the one thing she has never been able to see is stars. New York is a city of epic proportions, the City That Never Sleeps. Seeing even one star in the night sky is a New Yorker’s equivalent of a blue moon.

Gregor has never really seen the stars in New York, but when his family has gone on the infrequent trips down to the farm in Virginia, the night sky had really been a sight to behold. He'd told Luxa about, once or twice to start, but soon it became the dream they never thought they could achieve – going down to Virginia together to see the stars.

These days, Gregor might even be persuaded to believe in a miracle or two.

His dad gives them his blessing after a semi-stern lecture about being careful and thinking things through. So does his mom when she gets home from work, just as the two of them are walking out the door. She promises to call ahead to her cousin, who currently owns the farm even if he doesn't always live on it, to tell him that Gregor and his girlfriend are on their way. Gregor and Luxa say their goodbyes, and head for the nearest bus station whose route can get them out of the city.

The bus is as pleasant as always. Which is to say, not very. As per normal, Luxa wrinkles her nose when they climb on, but leads the way to the back without another word. They stow their bags under their seats and slide into positions which allow them a good view of the front, while still giving them some privacy and an easily defensible position, and they do it all without thinking. Gregor gives Luxa a wry smile once he realizes it.

“Ripred's lessons really get into your head, I'll give him that,” says he with a smirk. Luxa blinks once, then groans and rolls her eyes when she figures that they've found the exact kind of spot Ripred drilled them on in his fighting lessons on situational awareness. The two of them started getting those lessons together long before anyone else but Ripred figured out that their age wouldn't stop them from being right in the middle of the fight, and despite how much they resisted at first, everything the old rat has taught them is natural as breathing by now.

“Let's not give him the satisfaction of telling him that, at least,” she mutters under her breath. Gregor would think she's totally serious, but for the little half-smile playing around the corners of her mouth. He smirks.

“Are you kidding me? He probably already knows,” Gregor murmurs back, and she snorts.

For the first hour or so, they sit pretty much entirely in silence. Luxa reads an Overland book she’d been meaning to get to; Gregor listen to music and looks at the scenery. They’re still in the city, or at least close enough to it, and the bus is still pretty packed, so they can’t talk about anything they might usually without sounding like crazy people; and anyway, it’s okay. The silence between feels comfortable and easy. Gregor’s not especially sentimental - more than Luxa, though - but sitting with her like this, perfectly at ease with each other, puts a happy glow in his chest. More than once Luxa rolls her eyes at him because she catches him smiling softly to himself. (It only makes him smile more.)

Once they get far enough away from the city, the bus empties a bit; not enough to make them really comfortable, obviously, but enough that they can start talking if they keep it to quiet murmurs.

“So, just how terrible is election season, usually?” Gregor muttered, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Luxa, who smirked wryly.

“...It is,” she says slowly, “the one and only time that, as a child, I saw both Vikus and Solovet lose their tempers. Together. At someone else. The two of them, angry at one person, is… a formidable sight, to say the least.”

Gregor stares at her for a minute. Then he relaxes back into his seat and whistles lowly in awe. “I am so glad we aren’t in Regalia right now,” he says with wide eyes. Luxa snorts at him - but Gregor notices she doesn’t disagree. “At least the next council will probably be better,” he sighs.

“I would not count on that,” Luxa says dryly. She gives up, closes her book, and turns to him slightly. (Not enough to draw attention, of course. Paranoia - one of Ripred’s many gifts to them. Wonderful.) “The tradition of truly obnoxious council members is older than any living being, and I doubt it bears changing any time soon. That, as much as anything, has lead me to consider Howard and Cartesian’s proposal.”

Gregor glances at her. “The one establishing the group that made the treaty as a permanent Parliament?”

Luxa nods grimly. “The same,” she says. “No one would much like it...but in all honesty, it does not sound like a bad idea.”

Gregor shrugs. “Well, anything’s probably better than the council,” he says with a grin.

“I have no quarrel with that,” Luxa laughs quietly. “At the very least, they’d whine far less about my-” she mimics the whining tone of a particularly officious council member they both loathed, “-‘irresponsible dalliance with an unsuitable candidate,’ as if you were not the equal of any of them, who has done far more for Regalia than they ever have.”

Gregor smiles. “I’m glad you think so highly of me,” he teases. Luxa shoves him lightly.

After that, they turn to the more innocuous subject of gossip, and eagerly swap details about everything from the ongoing shy flirtation between Lizzie and one of the newer language students, to agitation along the cutters’ border. (“I promise, Gregor, if I must deal with those condescending, arrogant cutter queens for the third time of the past three years I will simply have done with it and ask Ripred to eat them.”)

They switch buses twice on the way down - once almost missing the departure of the bus they’re switching to - and other than the occasional traffic or rowdy fellow bus patrons, things are quiet. Half an hour into their second ride, they start dozing in careful shifts, preparing for the night that they'll spend awake and looking at the stars. (Despite the fact that they haven't been soldiers in active war time for at least two years, not since the series of skirmishes that turned into the full-blown Cutter Wars, old habits die hard. They still take turns keeping watch while the other sleeps.) Luxa is a little wary but still fascinated by the lack of skyscrapers and city noise (it is, after all, her first time out of the city), but she gets used to it quickly enough.

Around six hours in, they get their first glimpse of the mountains. A half an hour after that, Luxa actually looks up from her book long enough to see them. That half an hour had brought them quite a bit closer; the mountains now _loom_ over them, dark against the brilliant blue sky. Luxa takes one look, blinks, and then almost launches herself over Gregor to flatten against the window, demanding to know what those were and also she needs to sit in the seat by the window _at once_ , Gregor. Gregor snickers - earning himself a quick smack to the head - but slides over accordingly. Luxa presses against the window with a fascinated awe that Gregor finds hilarious and adorable, all at once.

“First time seeing mountains,” he explains in a confidential tone to the grandmotherly old lady giving them a skeptical glare. Luxa shoots a glare back at Gregor herself, but even the ever-familiar sport of being irritated with him can’t keep her away from the sight of the mountains just outside the window. Gregor cracks up. Luxa makes him promise not to tell Ripred. (He's totally telling Ripred.)

They arrive at the farm after eight and a half hours total of travel time, and by the time they get there, it’s already starting to get a little dark.

“Come one!” Gregor laughs, running into the little farm house and dumping his bags by the front door. “Come on, hurry up, we need to eat and get unpacked in time to see the stars.”

The evening is busy and filled with a feverish excitement for the both of them. After dinner, Gregor makes Luxa stay inside while he pokes his head outside the front door to check on the sky. What he sees makes him grin widely. The sky is completely clear, and one of the best starry skies he’s ever seen, even for the farm. Oh, yeah. This is going to be amazing.

He darts back in and puts his hands over Luxa’s eyes, making her yelp with surprise. “Ready?” he says quietly into her ear.

“Gregor-” she huffs, playfully annoyed, but Gregor laughs.

“Nope!” he says. “I’ll walk you outside. I promise, Luxa, it’ll be worth it.” She laughs back at him, but nods anyway.

He guides her out the front door and down the porch steps, hands over her eyes all the way. The lawn in front of the house is as good as any, so - warning her, playfully strict, to keep her eyes closed - Gregor guides her down there, before flopping down on the ground by her side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he places his other hand over her eyes again and takes a moment just to look at her. (He smiles gently, easy and without thinking. He doesn’t even notice, it feels so natural.)

“Ready?” he says softly. She bites her lip and nods underneath his hand. He leans down and kisses her, then, because the anticipation and the excitement and the happiness are roiling together in his chest and he’s as helpless before her as he’s always been. She responds, leaning up into him when he pulls away. “Open,” he whispers against her lips. And he leans back and pulls his hand from her eyes.

“Ohhhh,” Gregor hears her sigh, like the breath’s been knocked out of her. “ _Gregor_. I...”

He glances over, and sees a tear trickle down from the outside corner of her eye; he reaches out and brushes it away, and Luxa turns her head to press a shaky kiss against his knuckles. More tears slide down her face.

“It’s so _beautiful_ ,” she whispers, well and truly overcome. “How could they have ever thought to give this up, those first Regalians? All my life I’ve spent in pursuit of light - everyone I know has - and I never knew it was right here. It was always here. All along, Gregor.”

Gregor doesn’t know what to say to this. He doesn’t have to, because Luxa leans in and kisses him hard and buries her face in his shoulder and puts her arms around him like she’ll never let go.

(To this day, the stars will always be Luxa’s favorite thing of the Overland.)

_ix. music_

“And your people do this for _fun_?” Luxa says incredulously, holding her ears and wincing every time the night club’s speakers reach a new height of sheer sound. Gregor grimaces. He’s not sure why he thought going clubbing was a good idea, given that he has never really liked the idea in the first place.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says in disgust

(Luckily, sneaking into a concert in Central Park is a far more rousing success, even if they do spend half of said concert making out behind the refreshment stand instead.)

_x. flight_

It takes several weeks for Luxa - as per their deal - to convince Aurora to sneak out through the Central Park entrance to go for a night flight in the city with Gregor, Ares, and Luxa. The minute Aurora does give in (“Luxa, you are my bond and I love you dearly, but this is a very stupid idea.”), they make plans and they go that very night. Aurora is clearly disgruntled, but she keeps to her word.

“You are going to enjoy this, Aurora, I promise,” Ares purrs as he creeps out through the opening while Gregor and Luxa hold back the stone.  “It is like nothing else.”

“I hope that is not code for ‘we will be shot at by human po-lice,’” Aurora grumbles. (Luxa’s been mildly infatuated with the Overland for months now, she had to learn something.)

“No way, Aurora,” Gregor says with a grin, rolling back the stone once the gold bat is clear of the entrance. “This is going to be so awesome, you have no idea.”

Aurora huffs and rolls her eyes. Though normally a fairly stoic person, even for a bat, this insanity on the part of her bond and her friends has clearly pushed her past the point of forbearance. Still, she declines to complain further as Gregor and Luxa boost the bats up on top of the entrance stone and clamber up after them. Gregor and Ares discovered pretty early that taking off was a lot easier with just a little bit of height to help.

“Ready?” Gregor says with a grin at Luxa, who rolls her eyes fondly.

“As we will ever be,” she snorts. He laughs.

“Then go!” he yells (thankfully, the park is empty) and with that, Ares launches himself skyward.

Hours later, Ares smirks at Aurora while their humans sit at a distance, looking out over the city and laughing. They don’t seem to notice that they’re sitting a lot closer than would normally be considered appropriate, or that they keep touching each other’s shoulders and arms like they can’t help themselves. “So, was I right or was I right?” he chuckles at her. Aurora resettles her wings huffily and gives him a look.

“You have been spending far too much time with the Overlander,” she said.

_xi. food_

It will _never_ not be funny to Gregor just how much Queen Luxa, ruler of Regalia, Light of the Underland, war queen, is confused and bewildered by the _concept_ of a _salad_.

Never.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I had planned to write quite a bit more, but I goofed and didn't have quite as much time as I thought I did. Sorry!


End file.
